CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Iliana
A week passed, and The Summer Festival was set to begin, which meant both Seb and I were kept exceedingly busy.
One of the bright spots of my days was the chance to sit and play with Princess Penelope, one of the most darling little girls in all eternity.
It turned out that Princess Penelope had her own entourage of nannies, secretaries, and security. On top of that, she even had her own reception rooms. The rooms were much less stuffy than the rest of the palace, and Sebastianos told me it was to make the princess more comfortable when hosting other children of dignitaries and special guests while getting her accustomed to doing so. There was a giant television, comfortable couches and even a wall of games and movies to help her entertain while her father did the same a few doors away in the formal receiving rooms.
And I was quickly becoming one of her favorite playmates, which I loved.
On one visit, Penelope wore a purple and pink dress with the enormous purple and pink bow I remembered seeing at the Galleria.
She gave me an enormous smile. She was missing one of her front teeth, and the other was growing in, much larger than the rest of her baby teeth. Imagining this creature as the queen of Cassia someday brought a smile to my face. She was perfect.
“Can I help plan the wedding?”
“Of course you can. I need all the help I can get.”
She beamed at me. I took the little girl’s hand, and she pulled me over to a little sitting area.
After I was seated, Penelope darted around the sofa and returned seconds later with a large magazine earmarked with Post-it notes.
She plunked it down on the table next to us and pointed to the cover. International Bride.
“I stole sticker notes out of Daddy’s desk drawer and marked the pages that had my favorite dresses,” she explained. “You can look at it and maybe choose the ones you like? We can show the dress designer our favorites.”
My mouth would have dropped open if I hadn’t made an effort to keep it closed. This precocious little girl had gotten her hands on a bridal magazine and bookmarked favorites for me? It made me laugh, and I struggled to be as serious about it as she looked right now.
Her nanny, introduced as Mrs. Kent, explained, “Her Highness has been obsessed with brides and weddings since she was old enough to turn a page,” she said with a laugh. “We thought she’d outgrow it, but I see a wedding planner in her future if she decides not to be the reigning monarch of a small first-world country.”
Penelope was still beaming as she pointed out the bridesmaid dress she preferred. The child had good taste. I looked at the price tag and gasped. Expensive tastes.
“Daddy said that since you are a baroness, it’s okay for me to follow behind you but if you had been a commoner, I wouldn’t be able to.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Royal protocol can be very confusing.”
So Penelope and I bonded over wedding talk, and we spent some bit of time together every day, with Penelope promising to “show me the ropes.”
It was after one of my visits with Penelope that my parents finally called, and the relief of hearing their voices had caused me to sink to the floor of my private living quarters while I shared the news of the pregnancy and upcoming wedding.
“Can you come?” I begged my mother. “Please come. I need you here. I need Daddy to walk me down the aisle. Please tell me you’ll be here.”
“Shhh, Silly Illy,” Mom said in her best soothing voice. “Of course we’ll be there. How are you feeling? How are you handling the pressure you must be experiencing?”
My parents had always spoken to me as if I were a grown-up, but right then, I just needed them to take me in their arms and tell me everything would be okay.
They couldn’t, of course, so instead, I shared the details of meeting Aunt Hermione and what I’d been learning and experiencing in the palace. It was actually soothing, just chatting about details to people I knew would keep my secrets.
It had been hard to say goodbye when it came to the point where I knew we were struggling for more to say. I didn’t know why it was harder that time. Maybe it was because I was in the process of becoming a mother too that made me want to cling to the woman who’d given me life.
“We’ll begin making plans, darling,” she assured. “I’ll email the information as we know it, and please thank Aunt Hermione for her hospitality to both you and to us when we arrive.”
My great-aunt had been the first to offer her home to my parents and any friends who might wish to attend the wedding. In a way, it was funny. By leaving everything I’d ever known, my circle of friendship and family was actually growing more than at any time in my life.
After the call, the glam crew assaulted me, getting me prepped and ready for the half-hour interview Seb and I would be giving later that afternoon.
It went well, with Sebastianos doing most of the talking while I did most of the smiling and nodding as I focused on sitting up straight and not crossing my legs at the knees.
Which was incredibly difficult.
Another thing that was incredibly difficult was not looking at social media and the online gossip rags. I’d nearly been in tears when someone posted an unflattering picture of me attempting to stifle a yawn. The comments had been brutal, with most calling me common and of ill breeding, surely not attractive enough for the dashing duke.
As I smiled at the stylist reporter, I looked down at the ice blue dress that had been chosen for me, my knees and wrists completely covered. It was pretty, but I honestly felt like an old lady who had been swallowed by an iceberg. I’d need to talk to the style team. I wanted to look appropriate, but I also wanted to look like me.
The dress was also a bit baggy, because even since my fitting a few days ago, I’d lost a few pounds. Between still feeling sick, the stress of being perfect was wearing on me. It made me worry about the baby, which made me feel even more stressed, which seemed to become a revolving circle.
It wasn’t all bad. I was sure I’d also lost weight from all the additional exercise I was getting in the bedroom… and the living room… and the kitchen… and on his office desk.
“And which do you prefer, my dear?”
I snapped back to the conversation and gave the reporter a bright smile. “I’m sorry. I distracted myself.”
She gave me an indulgent smile, but her eyes seemed to say, Commoner.
“I was asking about your preference between horse-drawn carriages versus motor vehicles.”
Gah! Seriously?
I smiled. “I think both are lovely, and I’m sure Sebastianos and I will enjoy making that decision.”
Ha! Although I thought I’d recovered nicely, I forced myself to pay closer attention to each and every question, and when I caught myself crossing my legs, I very slowly adjusted position, crossing them at the ankle instead.
Could I do this all the rest of my life?
Worry about how I sat? Smiled? Paid attention to things that meant so little to me?
“…. royal photography office?”
Damn. My mind had wandered again. But I thought I caught enough of the question to answer correctly. “I’ve enjoyed tremendously being part of the royal photography team and couldn’t be more grateful for all I’ve learned so far. I hope to work closely with them in the future.”
There. Hopefully, that covered everything.
When she smiled and moved on to another topic — the debate between fruit or white cake at weddings… gah! — I took a relieved breath and barely managed to hold back a “let them eat chocolate cake” barb that would have probably gotten me in trouble.
The moment the interview was over, I stood and gave the woman a warm hug, hoping to endear her into saying nice things about me.
“Congratulations on the little one,” she whispered in my ear, and I froze. Pulling back, I wasn’t sure what to say. It was one thing to avoid a question and quite another to lie to someone’s face.
Seb saved me, taking my hand, mentioning we had another appointment to rush to. The interviewer winked, and I smiled before turning away without a word.
He wasn’t wrong. We did have to rush. The moment I was back in my rooms, the glam squad was there, yet another dreary dress hanging on a gigantic wooden hanger.
I looked at Michael, the stylist assigned to me. “No, I’m not wearing that.” Immediately feeling guilty, I put my hand on his arm. “Please. I’m twenty-four, not ninety.”
But instead of dashing my hopes of ever dressing young again, Michael just smiled and pulled another dress from the closet.
It was a sunny yellow that I could already tell would fit perfectly. Still knee-length, the cut featured a boat line neck that would highlight my shoulders without showing boat loads of skin in the process.
“I love it.”
He air-kissed my cheeks. “The color will be wonderful for an outdoor event.”
After they’d done some magic twist with my hair, lifting it off my neck so that dress wouldn’t be upstaged by the long strands, I felt young and free as I twisted this way and that in front of the mirror.
“Τέλειος.”
Whirling, I found Seb in the doorway, smiling at me. “You’re looking pretty perfect yourself,” I said, happy that I was slowly picking up more of the language.
And he did look perfect. As we’d be outdoors for hours, he’d opted on charcoal pants with a snowy white shirt open at the neck.
“You remind me of the first time I met you.”
He smiled, and the glam squad scattered as he came farther into the room. “Best day of my life.”
Something low and deep twisted in my belly, and I knew it wasn’t anything to do with our baby. It was lust, pure and simple.
“Maybe tonight we can recreate that first meeting,” I said and ran my hand into the open neck of his shirt, feeling his warm skin.
He kissed me, and with that meeting of the lips, all the stress of the day slid away.
Going against royal protocol, we held hands as we walked the streets of the festival, and I was happy to see so many smiling faces beaming at me, wanting to shake my hand or get my picture.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, I thought as I knelt to shake hands with a little girl wearing a tiara. “You look so beautiful,” I told her.
“So are you,” she said back, her little voice piercing my heart.
Vendors were out and sporting patriotic décor in Cassia’s purple and yellow colors. Kids played with streamers and begged their parents for money for the food and sweets vendors.
Artisans and craft makers had tables that lined the narrow roads outside the castle, and the air of celebration was heavy and exciting. I was enjoying myself and my time, and when I became a subject of Thierry’s crew, I rolled my eyes and stole one of the cameras, taking his picture in return.
When Seb was called away, I stayed with Thierry, comfortable in his presence. Acting as if I was still a regular intern, I paid attention to everything he did, learning how Thierry used his knowledge and tools to capture complete stories in the faces of the people in his photographs — something I hoped to learn, especially since my focus of study was turning away from landscapes. And more to babies, I thought with a smile.
“It’s not as easy as you thought it would be, is it?” Thierry asked me after we had wrapped up a shoot and were sitting on a bench enjoying a round of lemonade. It was becoming easier to forget that I was surrounded by guards and flashing cameras as I focused on the man beside me.
“What’s not easy?”
“Assimilating into royal life.”
I laughed. “I never expected it to be easy,” I said, trying to keep my answers generic since we were in public, and I’d been warned that there would be people attempting to read my lips.
“You have an easy face to read, Miss Costas,” he said. “That, and I have little birds everywhere who sing about the woman from the communications office. She’s not making it easy, I hear. The latest word is that you are getting cold feet since you’ve yet to sign one contract or another.”
Oh, yes. The contracts.
The documents had been delivered to me the day of the press conference, and I’d been studying them ever since. The non-disclosure had been easy to sign, and I’d returned it right away. But the others I’d been more careful with, especially when it came to me and the rights of my child, which was the only thing I really cared about.
Even when I got a call from Reina herself asking about the papers, I reminded her that I had until the actual wedding to review them. I’d barely refrained from adding that if she didn’t like it, she could kiss my ass.
“You definitely have that horrible woman pegged correctly,” I replied. “That’s for certain.”
“And your duke? Is he struggling with it all too?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. He should be used to it, I guess. But he’s been busy. I don’t see him a lot during the day, and I’m often asleep when he comes home.”
“You know the word is slipping out about your happy news.” Thierry made a vague gesture toward my stomach.
I sighed and forced myself not to place my hand over the tiny child. “I know. I didn’t actually expect to keep it secret for as long as we did.” It took everything inside me not to lay my head on the older man’s shoulder. “How do you really think people will react? Some have been so cruel on social media and—”
“I told you not to read those trolls, my dear.”
I met his wise gaze. “I know, but I keep thinking I’ll learn from what they are saying, or that I’ll maybe be bolstered from the equally kind statements… but…”
“The harsh remarks make direct hits, I know.”
I nodded. “Straight to the heart. Either my hair is too straight or not straight enough. My clothes too bland or ill fitting. My smile too tight or too toothy. I can’t seem to do anything right.” I took a sip of the tangy lemonade. “And I’m sure my morals will be crucified when they learn of the baby. I know it shouldn’t matter what others think, but it does.”
He snorted. “Don’t worry. When you live in the glass bowl long enough, your skin will get thicker and it won’t matter as much.”
“Promise?”
He patted my hand. “I promise.”
I met my mentor’s gaze again, wanting to ask him something that had been bothering me. There were so few people here I could talk to, and I wanted to be careful.
“How well do you know Seb, Thierry?”
He smiled. “Oh, I’ve known the lad since he was a boy, but I don’t think that’s what you’re asking.” He inhaled a deep breath. “Let’s see, what I know of the duke is that he has grown into a smart and capable man. I believe he is a man who knows how to serve his country selflessly, but who never learned to follow his own heart.”
I nodded. “He seems like two different men at times. One is the dutiful statesmen in public. And then in private, he’s such a caring…” I blushed, unsure if I should go on.
Thierry lifted a brow. “Caring and passionate lover, perhaps?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“And you’re wondering which of the men is the real Sebastianos.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, and I blinked them away. “Yes.”
He smiled. “Won’t it be great fun finding out?”
Fun?
Huh.
I’d been putting so much pressure on myself to know everything right away, that I hadn’t allowed things to simply evolve as we explored each other and our layers of personalities. What would happen if I worried less and smiled more? Fretted less and laughed more?
Would that fit royal protocol? Perhaps not.
But it would fit me.
And maybe that would be enough.
***
“Did you have a good time?” Seb asked me once we were back at his apartment.
I kicked off the heels, yet another thing I was being forced to get used to, and plopped down on the sofa in a very undignified manner. “Very much. Too bad you were called away.”
He looked guilty. “Yes, and I’m sorry for that. There’s just been…” He shook his head and sat down next to me, then forced me to lay down until my feet were in his lap.
When his thumbs ran up my arch, I moaned.
“Been what?”
He pulled on my toes, wiggling them back and forth, and I closed my eyes, listening to him chuckle.
I cracked open an eye. “What?”
He placed his palm against the sole of my foot, and my toes barely came to his middle knuckle. “Pipsqueak.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Rub, slave.”
He lifted my foot and bit my big toe, making me giggle. But he settled down and began to rub again, and it was nice just being together this way. Soon, though, his hands slowed down their movement and a far away look swept over his face.
He was gone again. Here, but gone to wherever his mind so often wandered, and for a moment, I wondered if I’d ever be enough to make him be fully present.
Taking my feet from his lap, I moved until I was straddling him, hiking my dress up to my thighs so I could press my sex against him.
His head lolled back on the sofa as he looked lazily at me, his hands gliding up my arms and to my hair, where he began pulling out the pins.
Leaning forward, I pushed his shirt apart, and pressed my mouth just over his heart, feeling the strong beat against my lips.
“What happened to your mother?”
It was a question I’d been burning to ask. A question I’d researched but had never found an answer to beyond learning that she’d left the country when Seb was only five years old.
He stiffened, and his hands fell away from me, and I knew that I should have stayed quiet.
“I’m sorry,” I said, moving to get off his lap. “It’s too personal.”
He stopped me, his hands moving to my waist to keep me in place. “Yes, it’s too personal,” he finally said, dropping his head back to the cushion again, “but you’re part of my personal life now. You deserve to know.”
I held still and waited.
“She couldn’t handle the palace life and left to get away from the pressure.” He made a snorting sound. “I’ve not seen her since I was five.” He closed his eyes. “I’ll never understand how anyone could just abandon their child like that.”
My heart squeezed for him. That simple explanation explained so much. Why he resented the fishbowl of palace life, as he called it. Why he didn’t want to be married.
Until now. When he had little choice. Otherwise, he’d be abandoning his child.
My heart squeezed again. This time for me.
He was a noble man, doing the noble thing… because he had to.
Cupping his face in my hands, I waited until he looked at me. “You won’t be abandoning our child if we choose not to marry, Seb. You can still be part of his or her life no matter what.”
He frowned. “Are you giving me an out?”
I smiled past the pain the suggestion caused. “Yes.”
He raised his head, and my hands fell away. “Do you want out, Iliana? Is this proving to be too much? Is this what this is about?”
Tears burned up my sinuses. Damn hormones.
Before he took the tears the wrong way, I admitted, “It’s a lot to take on, but no, I don’t want to leave you.”
The look of relief on his face nearly broke me. “I don’t want you to leave. I want us to be a family. I want this to work.”
Another question reared its ugly head. “Why, Seb? Why me?”
He examined my face. “I don’t know. I don’t know what drew me to you or what continued to tug me in your direction. I don’t know why we met that night or why we came together again here.” He lifted a finger to my hair, twirled a strand round and round. “What I do know is that I’m glad. Am I scared? Yes. Worried. Yes. Overwhelmed and busy with my new role and all that it takes to make sure my country is stable and safe? Yes. Could the timing have been better? Yes.”
I laughed softly. “I get the picture.”
He let go of my hair and pressed his finger on my cheek, exactly where one of my dimples lived. “God, I love your dimples.”
I reached up and placed my finger in one of his intentions. “I love your dimples too, but I think you’re distracting me from our conversation.”
The dimple grew deeper. “Clever girl. But the truth is that I can’t answer the question of why. I can just say that I’m glad it’s you. The girl who loves llamas and makes me laugh. The girl who is so sexy and strong it blows my mind. The girl I can’t stop thinking about and who is carrying my baby deep in her womb. I’m glad that girl is you.”
“I’m glad it’s me too.” Another question came to the surface, and since he was being so open, maybe he’d be willing to go a little deeper. “Have you ever been in love, Sebastianos?”
“No.” He was silent for so long that I thought he wouldn’t say any further, then he surprised me by adding, “All my life, I didn’t think I’d be able to. Didn’t want to.”
That was such a sad answer, and I stroked his beautiful face with my fingers. “Why?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Too many risks, maybe. Not enough rewards.”
I understood that.
“Love is scary.”
He nodded. “Yes. Love too often equals loss.”
“So, what’s a better option?” I asked, genuinely curious as to what he thought.
His eyes slid down my body, and his hands moved to my thighs, pushing the dress up and over my hips, leaving my beige lace panties exposed. I gasped when he ripped the panties away before opening his pants and lifting me onto his cock.
“Sex.” I sank down on him, my body taking him in. “Sex is the option.”
As his lips came down on mine, I could only hope it would be enough.